


the best soy latte that you ever had, and me

by bloodredcherries



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 17:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredcherries/pseuds/bloodredcherries
Summary: Alice seeks comfort in FP instead of the Farm.





	the best soy latte that you ever had, and me

“Alice? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” 

 

“I would have been better off,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and he had to strain to hear her, despite the fact that she was standing inches away from him, her fingers clutched to his screen door like it was a lifeline. “I would have been better off had I just stayed with you. Charles --  _ our son _ \-- would still be alive, and I wouldn’t have been  _ married  _ to a murderer.” 

 

“Alice--”

 

“I know that would mean that I didn’t have Betty and Polly,” she continued, as he tried to assess the situation he found in front of him, which was the fact that Alice had driven her station wagon  _ into _ the ramshackle tent city that had popped up in front of his trailer, and was seemingly oblivious to having done so, given that she was baring her soul to him (and an eavesdropping Sweet Pea and Fangs), in an increasingly loud tone of voice. “I just...one of them is in a cult and the other one would rather deal with her friend’s murder trial than have  _ anything _ to do with me.” 

 

“Alice, I--”

 

“I just want things to go back to normal,” she said. “I don’t...I don’t know what I want. I just...everyone keeps  _ staring  _ at me.” 

 

“Well--”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come by,” she added. “When Jughead was in the hospital. I should have. I just…”

 

“It’s okay,” he insisted. “Do you want to come in?” FP didn’t bother waiting for her to respond, choosing instead to pry her fingers from the doorframe and lead her into his trailer, shooting both of the smirking miscreants he called gang members a pointed glare before he shut the door behind them, and enveloped her into his arms. “It’s okay, Alice.” He sighed. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

 

“You can’t tell me that,” she whispered, as she clenched his shirt in her fists. “I’m so sick of everyone  _ saying _ that to me. It’s all bullshit, and you know that. Were things okay when Gladys took off and left you? When  _ your _ entire life was thrown into shambles? At least she didn’t decide to become a  _ damn  _ serial killer.” He heard her sniffle. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You were only trying to help.”

 

“It’s okay, Alice,” he insisted, and he tightened his arms around her, rationalizing that it was probably a long time since Alice had been offered any form of comfort from anyone, and he figured that it was the least he could do. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been by,” he added. “I should have. We were staying with Fred for a little.” 

 

“I know. I thought about coming over,” she said. “I just--I don’t know. You had enough to deal with, you didn’t need to add me to it. I thought that things would get better with Polly back, anyways, but they haven’t. She keeps insisting that that farm of hers will fix me, but I don’t think that it will. I don’t want to live on a farm, can you imagine? Me? And, Betty, she’d never--”

 

“You don’t need to be fixed, Alice,” he insisted, and he led her to the couch and sat her down, eying her with appraising eyes, and not liking what he saw. “There ain’t nothing wrong with you,” he added. “You don’t need to go away to some farm, or whatever, because you aren’t in need of fixing.” 

 

“You promise?” 

 

He dropped down beside her, the couch protesting the sudden weight with a groan, and he wrapped an arm around her. Whatever issues he had with Alice (and she’d had with him), he wasn’t going to deliberately hurt her, for what? To prove whatever point she had decided needed to be proven by breaking her own heart? Yes, Charles was dead, and, yes, Alice had been married to a murderer, but neither of those points was her own fault, no matter how much FP sensed she was willing to blame herself. 

 

“Look, Al,” he said, and he tried to hide his surprise as she leaned into him, though he winced at how thin she had gotten since they had last been in physical contact. “Yeah, I promise. They taught me in AA that we are only responsible for ourselves, not everyone else. What Chic did and what Hal did, that’s on them, not you, you here? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

 

“Everyone stares at me.”

 

“You never minded when they stared before,” he pointed out, shifting somewhat so that she could stretch out on the couch. “Thought you liked that?”

 

“It was different when people feared me,” she told him. “Now it’s...like they’re repulsed by me, or even worse, that they  _ pity _ me. Poor Alice, she was married to the Black Hood. And then Polly with her  _ ridiculous _ insistence that I need my aura cleansed, and that I need to go to the prison and forgive her father? Forgive him for what? Ruining the past 25 years of my life? Wasn’t forcing me to marry him enough? What the hell is there to forgive? I don’t even know where to begin.”

 

“You could start by eating,” he suggested, his tone purposely light. “I was going to make myself lunch, when you showed up,” he added. “You should join me.” 

 

“I’d be imposing.” 

 

“Imposing on what? Nothin’ to impose on, Alice.”

 

She sighed. “Well, all right. We can have lunch together. If it’s not too much trouble.” 

 

“You’re always trouble,” he teased. “I like it, you know.”

 

“Hal never did.” 

 

“I never liked him,” he said, his tone honest. “Never liked how he treated you, never was too fond of how he treated your girls. Thought he was a dick who used that paper of yours as his prejudiced mouthpiece. Never thought that asshole was a serial killer, though.” He sighed. “Is what I read in the paper true?” 

 

“What did you read?” Alice asked, forced lightness evident in her tone. 

 

“That he wanted to kill you, and Betty,” he said, as his gaze locked on the faded bruises on her neck. “That he wanted to have you all go out, with the camera rolling.” She nodded. “That’s--Alice, that’s not something that you have to forgive, I don’t care that your child who keeps fucking off to who-knows-where thinks you need to forgive him. That’s bullshit.” He touched his fingers to her neck. “You don’t need to forgive him, and Betty doesn’t have to forgive him, and fuck all that Polly says to you, you hear?” 

 

“25 years, FP.”

 

“I know, Allie,” he whispered. “Long fuckin’ ass time.”

  
  


***

  
  


“I haven’t eaten in three days,” Alice admitted, as she was presented with a sandwich, filled with processed meats that she hadn’t eaten in decades, not since she’d left her old life behind for stability and the promise of being  _ worshipped _ and the start of 25 years of utter lies, and she let out a heavy sigh, taking a delicate bite out of the mishmash of lunchmeat. “Thank you, FP.” 

 

“What are you thanking me for?” 

 

“The sandwich?” Truth be told, she was ravenous. “I don’t...I don’t know, really.” 

 

“Got nothing to thank me for, Alice,” he said. “I’ve told you before, we take care of our own. That, despite all of your efforts to dissuade me of it, includes you. Includes Betty.” He sighed. “Eat, Allie.” 

 

“Still, I appreciate it,” she insisted. FP sat back down on the couch beside her, a bag of potato chips in one hand, and his sandwich in the other, and she took another bite, a bit embarrassed by the fact that she had had to be  _ fed _ by her derelict of an ex-boyfriend, when she honestly didn’t have a half clue why she had shown up at his trailer in the first place, or how she had even gotten there. “I just…”

 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Alice,” he said. “You are always welcome here, and I will never require an explanation. I know things are complicated. For you. For us.”

 

“Polly is really scaring me,” she blurted out, before she could stop herself. “The farm this, the farm that, she’s really quite obsessive over it. I want to ask her to leave but I don’t know if I want those children of hers out of my sight. I’ve offered to take care of them for her but she insists that I’m--I’m--”   
  


“What?”

 

“I stand by what I said about Jason Blossom,” she said. “I stand by wishing that Harold had been enough of a man to kill him, hell, I wish  _ you _ had killed him. He  _ ruined _ my child. You didn’t ruin me when you got me pregnant. I never thought that you ruined me. Polly was perfectly fine before she started  _ fucking _ her own cousin, and then it was like I  _ didn’t know _ my own child.” 

 

“Maybe sending her away was the wrong decision,” she allowed, her tone dismissive. “I just...I didn’t want her to be  _ tied down _ by her poor choice. You think that boy would have stuck around for my daughter? He would have left her high and dry for the next damn Vixen. And then his idiot father just goes and shoots him! Because that’s how we deal with our problems? Shooting people? No wonder Harold is the way he is.” She shook her head. “I’m so tired of being the enemy because I thought I was doing what was right. I’m not her father who wanted her to get an abortion, who wanted  _ me _ to get an abortion--”

 

“What?” 

 

“Don’t you remember? We were fighting about it at Homecoming.” She sniffled. “He had made an appointment for me, to get...to do the right thing, he called it. I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep him. I didn’t even want to give him up. I didn’t want--”

 

FP wrapped his arm around her again, and she instinctively curled herself up against him, unable to help herself. With his arms around her, he felt like shelter from the storm, like she was protected from everything that had gone wrong in her life. It was perhaps a foolish thought. At that moment, Alice didn’t much care whether it was foolish to think she was protected, or not. FP had destroyed a dead body for her, she thought the least she could do was trust the man. Hal -- despite his proclivity for murder -- would have  _ never _ destroyed a dead body for Alice. And she damn well knew that.

 

Being with FP, in his soup can of a trailer, made Alice feel as if she was at home. 

 

“I know you didn’t want to give him up,” he said, after a moment. “I would have helped you, Alice, even if he wasn’t mine, even if he was Hal’s...I would have helped you and made sure that you and the baby were taken care of. I would have tried, at least, to do right by the two of you, maybe things would have turned out all right. Maybe they wouldn’t have.” She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head, but she said nothing, choosing instead to listen, and half-heartedly eat her sandwich. “I just...I regret a lot of things in my life, Al, I just can’t bring myself to regret my kids, even though I’m sure that both of them regret me. I can’t fathom a world without them, you know?”

 

“I know.” 

 

“That still doesn’t mean that I don’t wish that we had had the chance to at least know him,” he continued. “I don’t blame you for turning him away, you didn’t know who he was, or what he was doing there, and as evidenced by the wonderful reaction Hal had when you thought Chic was Charles, I am dubious that he would have been receptive to you knowing our son. I just...maybe he would have liked me. I don’t know.”

 

“He would have liked you. You’re not an unlikeable guy.”

 

“You’ve always thought better of me than I have of myself,” he whispered. “Look at me, Alice. My son nearly died because he joined my gang. I got fired from my job as a soda jerk and actually might have to take the Lodge girl’s offer up on managing her speakeasy because I need flow, and--”

 

“Don’t,” she insisted. “I would rather you take my money than ruin your sobriety on something that is bound to fail. It’s bad enough that Veronica is.” She glanced up at him. “I’m sorry that I went back to Hal. Elizabeth wanted us to be a family--”   
  


“Alice,” he said, as she felt his fingers trace patterns on her skin, and she laid her head on his chest. “You don’t have to explain. Whatever happened...it happened. It’s in the past now.”

 

“You mean that?”

 

“Yeah.” She felt him stroke her hair, as she pillowed herself even closer. “You’re not the only one who would have done anything to make things work for their kids’ sake, you know? Not that Gladys could give two fucks about me and Jugs.”   
  


“How is Gladys?” Alice asked. 

 

“Couldn’t tell you,” he said. “I only converse with her through my lawyer. No, don’t worry, it’s not Penny Peabody. I’m...trying to do things right. She doesn’t want to see the boy, and I don’t know how to tell him that, but I might be able to see JB.” He sighed. “Supposed to be able to see JB. Hopefully.”

 

“You miss her, don’t you?” 

 

“Every day of my life. She doesn’t miss me, though.” 

 

“Or she’s pretending that she doesn’t miss you because admitting she does hurts her too much.” 

 

“Who the hell would do that?” FP scoffed. 

 

“I speak from experience, in that regard,” she said, her tone droll. “I really did miss you, Jonesy. I missed you more than anything.” 

 

“You did?” 

 

Alice nodded, and she impulsively planted a kiss on his lips. She had never really been one for open displays of affection (certainly not with Harold), but, she rationalized that they were alone in his trailer, and therefore not entirely out in public, and that this was FP, the man whom she’d once had her way with in the hallway at school, without a care to the world. She hadn’t cared. She hadn’t been ashamed of him. Maybe he’d been ashamed of being with her, but, at the very least, he hadn’t spent 25 years of  _ marriage _ making her feel dirty. 

 

She was dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a far cry from the outfit she’d worn the previous time she was in his trailer, but she didn’t really care what she had on. FP had always been easy to please that way. She was fairly certain that he would have gotten it up for her if she was wearing a trashbag. She was so  _ damn _ tired of crying, of being led to believe that she was inadequate, of not feeling desired. And over  _ Hal Cooper  _ of all people, as if she couldn’t possibly be more pathetic. 

 

“Alice…”

 

“I don’t want the farm,” she breathed, as she straddled him, running her nails down his chest. “I don’t want to find solace in the bottom of a bottle. I don’t want to waste away into nothing. I want you, Jonesy.”   
  


He kissed her hungrily. “I want you, too, Al,” he breathed, his voice low in her ear. “I’ve always wanted you.” 

 

“If we’re going to do this,” she said, as she looked him in the eyes. “This can’t just be a fling, okay? I need to know that this is real, that I’m real to you. I don’t want to be your dirty little secret.” 

 

“You don’t have to worry about that, Al. I wrote you a letter. I was gonna give it to you at the play, but…like you said, that doesn’t matter. The truth is, that I have had feelings for you for awhile, and they don’t seem to be going away, no matter what I try.” 

 

“You don’t have to try anymore,” she said, and she kissed him sweetly. “This feels right, doesn’t it? You, me, sharing a sandwich and a quickie on the pull out couch?” 

 

“Baby, I think we should go to the bedroom,” he murmured. “Not that I don’t think the idea is totally hot, but, I don’t know if the couch could handle it. It would be awkward to explain that to the boy.”

 

She giggled. “Oh, why not? You can lead the way.”

  
  


***

  
  


Alice was thinner than she truly needed to be, but not alarmingly so, though the fact that she had admitted to an accidental three-day hunger strike had concerned him, and he was determined to not let it happen again, whether it was by moving into the murder house himself, or by moving her in with him (the boy would probably not approve of his girlfriend’s mother sharing a bed with him, but FP had loved Alice much longer than Jughead had loved Betty) -- her days of punishing herself for her sins and the sins of others were over, whether Alice approved of that decision he had made on her behalf or not. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” She asked him, from her position on his bed, and he smirked. “Jonesy, what? What’s so funny?”

 

“Just wondering if we’ve ever made it to a bed in a bedroom before,” he admitted, as he tossed his shirt into his clothes hamper, followed by the t-shirt he’d worn underneath, which left him clad in his jeans and boxers. Alice, on the other hand, was still fully dressed, a situation he would be soon to remedy. “Where did we end up last time?” 

 

She giggled. “Your pool table. I have to say, the bed is more comfortable.”

 

“We practically tore the felt.” He nuzzled her collarbone, as he settled down beside her. “I mean, not that I mind that. It would just make playing difficult.” 

 

“How often do you even play pool?” 

 

“Not often,” he admitted. “I’d play you, see if you’ve still got it.” He grinned. “Probably kick my ass.”

 

“Probably? Is that a challenge?”   
  


“It can be, if you want it to be,” he whispered. He kissed her again. “What do you say we get you out of these clothes?” 

 

“Feel free to help me out of them,” she said, as she deftly unzipped his jeans, which only served to reveal his growing erection. She licked her lips. “I did that?”

 

“You always do it for me.” He slipped her top off (it missed his hamper), revealing the simple, blue, bra she had on, that he wanted to tear off her but assumed cost more than he made a week at the diner. “What’d you say, babe? You still up for me?”

 

FP was nothing but a gentleman. He didn’t want Alice to feel pressured. Sure, he wanted sex, but he could handle himself.

 

“You know I am,” she said. She kissed him slowly, and he unclasped her bra. “Always.” He pressed a trail of kisses down her bare skin, tenderly lavishing her breasts with his tongue. “Aren’t you being romantic?” Her voice was breathy, and he could tell she was getting turned on, and he dipped lower, making sure to hit all of her erogenous zones, at least, those that he still remembered. Alice let out a pleasured moan. “Lower…?” 

 

“Have I ever  _ not _ gone down on you?” She shook her head, and she fumbled with the drawstring on her pants, before he tugged them, and her pretty blue underwear, off her. “I love that I do this to you,” he continued. “You’re so fucking wet.” 

 

“I..must’ve...really...missed..you.” 

 

“Missed. You. Too. Babe.” He punctuated every word with a lick of her clit. “I love you, Allie.” 

 

“Love you,” she panted, her breath ragged. “Fuck. Fuck me.” 

 

“I’ll fuck you whenever you want,” he said, and he pulled away from her, licking his lips, in order to shuck off his jeans and boxers, more than willing and ready to oblige. “Condom?” 

 

She shook her head. “You sure?”

 

“I want to feel you,” she whispered. “All of you. I know the risks. I’m okay with them.” He kissed her tenderly, well aware that his beard was covered in her, and she returned his fervour, flipping him so that she was on top. “I want to be in charge today,” she informed him, and her tone only increased his arousal. “Is that all right, Jones?” 

 

“Yeah, babe, more than all right.” 

 

She kissed him again. “I meant it, you know? When I said that I loved you?” 

 

“Baby, I know,” he assured her. “I love you, too.” He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand, but if she wanted to talk while they were making love, who was he to stop her? He caressed her sides, his hands settling on her hips, as he entered her, and she rocked back and forth. “Fuck, babe.” 

 

“Faster?” Her tone was honeyed, and her eyes were practically blackened with lust, and he nodded, not sure he could trust himself to speak with any degree of coherence, but it was clear she understood him, because she obliged. 

  
  


***

  
  


“Well, that was a pleasant surprise,” Alice commented, as she curled up on top of the blanket that FP had hastily thrown over his defiled sheets once they had gotten out of the shower. “I wasn’t entirely expecting that, when I came over today,” she admitted. 

 

“What were you expecting?” FP asked her, as he settled down on the bed beside her, in an equally nude state, and he pulled her close. “You know that you’re it for me, don’t you?”

 

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” she admitted. “You really think I’m that important?” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her fingers stroking his beard. “I love you, you know that, right?” 

 

It was true. Alice really did love FP. More than she wanted to admit. 

 

“I know you do, Al,” he murmured. “I don’t think that there’s anyone I’ve ever loved more, as bad as that sounds.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “What are we going to do?”

 

“About?” 

 

“Us,” he said. “Are we gonna tell the kids? Or just...let things be.” 

 

She considered this. “I want them to know,” she said. “It might be awkward, but, they should know. I’d rather them find out now than later down the road, you know?” 

 

He grinned at her, and he held her tighter. “I’ve got nothing to hide. I love you. I don’t want to hide that.” 


End file.
